Killing Atlas

I sat; rocket straight, on the cushioned leather seat. My palms were sweating as I gripped the arm rest, my knuckles almost glowing white, even in the darkness.

It was almost as tense as the first time we had watched a movie together. The air was palpable. You could cut through the tension with a knife. Only I seemed to be the only one who noticed. Atlas leaned into his seat so comfortably, inclined slightly towards me as he silently watched the movie. I couldn’t be sure what it was. Something stupid. Full of invisible aliens and the guy from King Kong.

John’s apartment was, to say it politely, a fucking shit hole. But he’d already mentioned that this wasn’t his real home. He didn’t know where he lived. Not surprising since he didn’t even know who he was. The thought didn’t ease my discomfort. I’d come here blind, with no plan in sight. Now, the past hour had been used to think of my next attack. I was now waiting for the moment to make my move.

And there it was.

His eyes dropped from the screen, his head tilted to the side in obvious weariness. Moving quickly, I unwrapped a pillow from its case and edged closer to him. His chest rose and fell innocently as he slept, the contours of his muscles showing clearly through his thin shirt. He had kept himself well built, and I knew I had to arrange myself in a way that he couldn’t struggle his way out. Atlas had always been far stronger than me. I’d have to gain the upper hand by wrapping my legs around his arms and pressing the soaked pillowcase into his face. Though it wasn’t my preferable form of assassination – it took a lot to erase any evidence – it was a technique I’d excelled at due to my flexibility and strength in my legs. Dad called it the black widow.

Preparing to move at lightning speed, I crept closer, moving slowly until I was positioned over him entirely. In one motion, I’d have him trapped, and he’d have no escape. It was so simple, and yet, I was hesitating.

“Is something the matter?” John asked.

He cracked an eye open so suddenly, I leapt in utter surprise. My blood pumped so fiercely in fear that my ears could only hear the pounding of my heart over the strange yip that escaped me. I landed on all fours a small distance away, gasping desperately for air as though I had been the one wrapped inside a pillowcase. Why had I hesitated? If I hadn’t, he’d be dead.

Curling my fingers into fists, I steadied my breathing. What was it that had stopped me?

“Are you alright?”

Breaking from my thoughts, my eyes snapped to John. He looked at me with concern, his brows furrowed slightly. It seemed hard to believe he didn’t realise what I’d been about to do. Atlas was clever; it was doubtful he wouldn’t connect the clues, even if he had lost his memory. Instead he held his hand out for me to take. My breath hitched. He couldn’t be serious.

“Are you hurt?”

The look on his face made me want to hit him with a brick. So innocent and kind. As if he hadn’t just seen me about to asphyxiate him with a pillowcase. Impossible. The pillowcase was mere centimetres from my fingers and he hadn’t even glanced at it once. Annoyance bubbled in my chest. This was the third day. The third time I’d tried to complete my mission. I shouldn’t be finding it so difficult since he was clearly a stupid man.

Rising to my feet, I turned my gaze to the door, knowing what it was that made me struggle. It was his face that stopped me. So trusting and… happy. I’d never seen Atlas like this. I’d never seen him as open and undoubtedly naïve as he’d been since I met him that first day.

I let out a sharp breath of disappointment at myself. How pathetic. I should know this innocence was only surface deep. He was naturally arrogant and cocky. A downright pain in my ass beneath the layer he’d draped over himself.

“I need to leave,” I said, avoiding meeting his gaze.

If I was going to do my job, I’d have to complete it long distance. I was getting far too close to him, and though I was easily replacing my fingerprints, and shielding myself from suspicion, I knew if he was found dead, they’d notice my regular appearance. I was a ghost, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be seen if someone looked hard enough.

“Have I done something to upset you?” Atlas asked, rising from the chair.

I refrained from scoffing harshly. “Nothing,” I answered tightly.

“Then I wish you would stay.”

A lump formed in my throat at the plea in his tone. It was infuriating to think that humanity still resided inside of me. As assassins, we were trained to be thoughtless. To complete our job and move on to the next without a hitch. It infuriated me that my heart fluttered at his words. Stupid, human desires.

“I’m not here to tell you about who you are,” I said. “Coming here was a mistake.”

“That’s not… I didn’t mean…” John sighed, scratching at the back of his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

I didn’t bother to grace him with a reply, choosing instead to collect my jacket and leave.

“At least let me walk you home,” John called out. “It’s late. It might be dangerous.”

This time I did scoff, throwing him a dark look over my shoulder. “There are two kinds of people in the world, Mr Doe,” I answered sourly. “People like you… and people like you used to be.” I paused, allowing his confusion to settle in before adding, “Funny. I actually prefer the latter.”

With that I left. I’d let this go on for far too long. It was time to go home.